Identity Crisis
by BurningxBridges
Summary: There was no manual on how to deal with learning your entire life was a lie, or how to deal with an identity crisis of this proportion.


Three words rang in her ears as she mechanically slipped into a nightgown and into bed. _You're a halfblood. _She supposed she should be amazed that her parents managed to keep up their ruse for so long. They had admitted that even around the time she was born they were struggling with basic appliances. She mentally kicked herself for not noticing her parents fumbling around the house in her earlier years, although her rational side knew that at five years of age almost any kid would right off their parents' bumbling as silly fun. Her parents had certainly laughed everything off that way.

But then, that wasn't even the important part. They had lied to her for eighteen years, and they probably would have continued to lie if she hadn't stumbled upon her father's wand while preparing the house for their arrival. She could understand that. After eighteen years, it would have been difficult to adjust to the idea that something as intrinsic and unchangeable as the circumstances of one's parentage could be a lie.

Still, it called all of her memories, all of her experiences, into question. She remembered the way her parents exchanged frightened, confused glances when she first began showing signs of magic, back when she was three and couldn't reach the books she wanted off the shelf. She remembered her parents' indulgent laughter as she ran up to them clutching a copy of _Matilda_, featuring a little girl who could make things move with her mind. She remembered their wonder at Diagon Alley, their befuddlement at Platform 9 3/4, and the way they would ask her all sorts of questions about the magical world, a world that they apparently already knew.

It hurt. It hurt that her version of events varied so drastically from her parents'. They were supposed to be shared memories.

And most of all, it hurt because she no longer knew who she was. For so long, she had been "Hermione Granger, muggleborn witch extraordinaire," or, to many in society, "Hermione Granger, mudblood." She'd fought a war where people like her, well, people she _thought_ were like her, faced registration and extermination. She could have been safer, never safe, because she would never allow Harry and Ron to charge off into the unknown without her, but safer. She could have been saved from years of abuse, from microaggressions to larger acts of oppression. She traced the scar on her left arm from when Bellatrix had branded her as a mudblood. How funny, to think that that wasn't even the truth.

She was lost, and Hermione Granger _hated_ being lost. It was why she had scoured Flourish and Blott's (and then the Hogwarts Library) for anything and everything concerning the Wizarding World. But there was no manual on how to deal with learning your entire life was a lie, or how to deal with an identity crisis of this proportion.

The truth reached deep into her identity, the core of her being, and ripped it out. Her entire experience of the Wizarding World was built around the fact that she was a mudblood, and tomorrow she faced a world where almost everyone but herself believed her to be one. That scared her.

She threw the covers off, knowing that she wouldn't get any sleep that night. She pulled her wand out from under her pillow and waved it carelessly, packing her belongings with ease.

Running away wouldn't solve anything, and it wouldn't change anything. But she needed time to think, time to adjust. Time without her parents. Hopefully they would understand. She summoned a piece of paper from her desk along with a pencil and scribbled out a note to her parents, telling them she was off to do some soul-searching and that she'd be back once she'd come to terms with everything and that they shouldn't worry or come after her. She set it on her bedside table and disapparated.

* * *

Matilda_ belongs to Roald Dahl, obviously. I also borrowed the 'mudblood' scar from the HP movies for the purposes of the story._

_To be honest, I really dislike the entire "surprise! Hermione's not muggleborn!" trope for a variety of reasons, but I thought it could be interesting to write this anyway. I spun it on its head a little bit-Hermione's a halfblood, rather than a pureblood. _

_Reviews are much appreciated!_

_~BB_


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